


Room for Improvement

by saisei



Series: Original Lifeline [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Extremely Underage, M/M, Manipulation, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 20:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15893424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: After Noct is attacked, Ignis takes on new duties.





	Room for Improvement

The Citadel is still reeling from the shock of nearly losing Noct. Ignis' schedule is rearranged drastically, his own lessons canceled so he can tutor Noct as well as take on additional weapons training. He's not surprised when he's summoned to the king's chambers, He's given books and dossiers to study and a lecture. King Regis finally stops pacing and sits in a heavy armchair. He orders Ignis to come and kneel before him, then opens his trousers, takes his penis out, and instructs Ignis to suck.

Ignis tries, but he doesn't know how and he's scared, his heart thudding against his ribs so hard he wants to breathe faster but he can't. He can't because his mouth is full, lips stretched into an O, and the King wants him to take in more. _I know you can_ , the King says, and pulls Ignis forward by his hair until he can't breathe, then pushes him back; pulls, then pushes; until finally Ignis takes over, clumsily, spit going down his chin, leaning in until he gags and then flinching back.

"Sloppy," the King says, and Ignis' eyes burn. He's _trying_ , and it still isn't good enough. He tries harder, jaw aching and knees bruising on the stone floor, until finally he feels fingers in his hair again, pulling him forward until there's hair brushing his nose. Something hot and bitter slides down his throat. He's released and he falls back onto his heels, panting, not knowing where to look. The King sighs. "I suspect you're the only one who fears losing him as greatly as I do."

"Sire," Ignis says, or tries to say. His voice doesn't work properly.

"You'll improve, I'm sure," King Regis says, as if there's some connection Ignis isn't clever enough to see between Noct's life and... this. Duty, Ignis supposes, his sworn duty to the Crown. "Next time, forgo the styling gel." He gives Ignis a sharp warning look. "You're dismissed."

Ignis clears his throat. "Yes, Sire." He stands, ungraceful, and goes to collect his assignments. When he leaves, the sound of the door closing behind him echoes in the empty corridor, and for a moment he wants to run. But he thinks of his King, alone on the other side, and of the Prince he serves, lying in his sickbed. Ignis is needed; he will serve, as long as duty demands.


End file.
